Postmodern love
by DemonicPatron
Summary: This is a solo I did a while back about a flashback to the 1920s when my Damon lost his humanity. A lot of Gatsby references, this solo is very similar to the one I did named 'The Gatsby's" but it's shorter and easier to read.


Postmodern Love

"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way". I have come to the realization that what Leo Tolstoy once said in his commonly known master piece, can take a stand with people as well. Just as happy families, all happy people are alike and just as an unhappy family…each unhappy person is unhappy in their own way.

It happened that on a warm windy evening I drove over to see two old friends whom I scarcely knew at all. Both of which I gathered be sadistic and depressed in their own special way. The lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quarter of a mile, jumping over sun. The front was broken by a line of French windows, glowing now with reflected gold, and wide open to the warm windy afternoon in the mid-summer.

Outside #Stefan welcomes me with a firm pat on my back which results in dirty looks being sent his way, adding the perfection of an evil glare.

"I see you still have not grasped the art of punctuality" He responds almost instantly with his hands folded behind his back, what he calls "manners".

"I see you're still annoying as fuck" I place my right hand on his shoulder, giving him a rough manly squeeze before passing him by, carelessly. My body is already sensing the amount of supernatural powers floating inside this mansion, most of which is rooting from one of the hostesses. Her back straight and her hands covered in what seems to be cashmere gloves. My hand flies upon a waitress' tray and I grab a thin glass of champagne. The same moment #Serenity's gaze catches me. Lowering her head with the shadow of a smile, taking her sweet time with the secret bow she gives me. It is not until now that I realize…I have taught her well.

By the time I have reached her, the conversation she has been a part of has dropped dead. Our powers coming together, has put the entire crowd into a state of confusion. Everyone is secretly and painfully conscious of us reuniting. She leans in carefully and kisses my left cheek, then the right one. Still doing it the old Russian way. Recalling everything that had happened, every detail of my quarrel with her is present to my imagination, and just as an unhappy person would, she puts on a fake smile, tilting her head towards the stairs. I give an understanding nod and just as soon I greet her, I leave her to the warmness of her boring guests.

Their house was even more elaborate than I expected, a cheerful red and white Georgian Colonial mansion overlooking the bay. Stairs stretching wide and long with the scarlet red of the Persian rug to satisfy the eye.

I spent a continuous hour in the library where my fingers touched and felt the hard wood of the frame. Making sure I would remember it for centuries to come. How it was sculpted, colored and how the surface felt under my rough fingers.

" Guten tag" Her voice was slow and hesitant…and absolutely beautiful: molasses dripping sweetness, honey falling straight from the comb. It was lower in pitch. To a vampire it resembled the sweet. drip-drip of a newly opened human vein.

"Wie geht's?" I try not to catch her eyes. They reveal her true nature…something especial…rare and /breathtaking/.

"Gut" She nods and answers almost instantly this time. As though a four year old responding to a question a grown up would ask. I avert my hues. Clenching my jaws, trying not to seem restless before her.

"Nicht so gut? " I keep my head down for what seems a long while for her to respond. For some strange reason I don't want her to catch me staring in admiration….Finally as I lift my head, she shakes her head. Agreeing with me in her own twisted way. A finger brushes a yet to be revealed wetness off her eye.

Her tears have always bothered me…with a logic I cannot understand. I come to see in her, what I'd missed before: purity. The lancing purity of a seraph of seraphim. That should have put me off, but instead it just reminded me of how she shouldn't be taken lightly.

"I have made up my mind" #Katherine comes forth. A weak smile curving on my lips but as soon as I see the famous stern expression she usually holds before she bursts into tears, the smile fades away. It could have not be true…Why couldn't she understand? If I could make her understand…

" So you chose #Stefan…." I force forward a chuckle, stretching his name as far as English allows me to. "Of course you did" I shake my head once, still as calm as I could ever be. A grin finding its way out after I speak my mind. She saves both of us further agony and takes her leave after realizing I have been informed. She gifts me the everlasting view of herself walking away from me.

My both palms rest on the desk before me to support my weight as my head falls into my own embrace. When she is around the sorrow won't show. I have no tension, nothing matters. Neither volcano nor the snow storm is of importance. Her presence cools down the hell I live in, under a classic rain. Fire and stone become undone before her. She makes deaf the news that saddens me with a romantic song her words sing. My love for her is postmodern. An emotion with a new version, she is the new definition of a boring old statement.

If I could show her how much I cared….

My chest falls and raises, my breaths becoming heavier. I can feel the hotness before my ears and the ache inside my ribcage. And there I feel it…the little warning my body gives me before adrenaline is released into my blood and I explode like an atomic bomb.

I literally flip the table over. Throwing the wooden shaped frame at the wall. Holding my head between my hands. Now my entire body is restless.

I loosen my tie, I can't breathe. My feet take me outside the room and I skip down the stairs. I need to get out of here…My tie rests half way open over my shirt. I can't breathe…why do I feel as though I need air? Vampires don't inhale…

"Brother" The warm sound greets me and extends an arm. "Aren't you going to greet #Daniella?"

I pass her without the need to say a word. I can't hear …I feel like Chopin when he wrote the fantasy piece…

"Brother?" This time her voice carries a concern. I place my hand on #Serenity's shoulder pushing her away with as much force as I can manage without using my abnormal strength.

All the hopelessness of my position kicks in. The more complicated fact…it is my own fault. The room becomes unbearable, making me dizzy. Such ache and agony that one cannot handle has overwhelmed me. Rushing the river of emotions down my throat. Forcing me to swallow all the pain. I can feel chopin's fantasie impromptu reaching its climax inside my brain.

With a small click I smile. Every unhappy person is unhappy in their own way…the superior race is free of such emotions…of such boundaries. We're stronger. I break free of all that holds me back with one small movement, drying the shameful tear before it falls down.

"Where can /i/ get a drink?" I narrow my gaze, wearing my delicious smirk as I browse through the room. Definitely drinking a blonde.

_Originally posted to VengefulDemise' Tumblr at 9/19/14._


End file.
